


Scars that Bind

by fangirlsanity



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Implied Torture, allison is in here because she deserves to live, mentions of derek and malia but I don't actually name them, you'll know them when I describe them hopefully
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 19:42:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6533851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirlsanity/pseuds/fangirlsanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For stydia-fanfiction: au where they have each other's scars</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scars that Bind

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for stydia-fanfiction.tumblr.com and honestly I'm pretty proud of it. I wrote something else for them that I'm going to put up soon. Also I felt like I couldn't do this request any justice unless they could also feel each other's pain.
> 
> Thank you to thatnerdyginger24 on Tumblr for being my beta!

Lydia had always known that she had the clumsiest soulmate in the entire universe.

Growing up, she was plagued by sharp pains in random places. Including (but not limited to) her elbows, knees, toes, and wrists. They happened daily, to the point where it was odd when she didn't feel anything for half of a day.

There were a handful of times where the sharp pains resulted in cuts or burns. They would result in scars that would mar her otherwise perfect skin. As a result, Lydia would often hit herself back just because she knew someone on the other side was feeling it; like she was berating her soulmate on being so clumsy.

She wasn't perfect either, she would do things things once in a while that would result in scars. And when her feet started to ache because she wore her heels just a little too long, she got an immense satisfaction over the idea that someone was hurting along with her.

That was the way that it went for the majority of her life. It was a nice, comforting routine. Even if at times it was severely uncomfortable, and her soulmate's recklessness was a source of irk.

It changed one night when she was seventeen.

She was falling asleep when she felt a blinding pain across her face. She remembered freaking out at the amount of blood on her pillow, screaming for her mom, a late night trip to the ER, and eighteen stitches on her face.

She didn't allow herself to talk until the stitches around her mouth were healed.

Her mother was furious at the situation—at the fact that something happened to affect her daughter this way. She remained supportive and taught Lydia tricks to hide it with makeup.

People still noticed.

The wound healed nicely, but it left behind a deep scar that couldn't be hidden completely.

It made Lydia retreat into herself. Even when the stitches around her mouth healed and she was allowed to talk again, there was still a quietness that enveloped her. High school was tough, but it was ten times harder after the incident. She stopped talking to her friends, or rather they ostracized her. Her boyfriend at the time, Jackson, Broke up with her because “she wasn't the same.” She fell off of the social pyramid that she once dominated.

People stared at her wherever she went. Whether it was at school, at home, or at the grocery store, she was met with looks of pity.

The only person that really stayed was Allison.

Allison was a godsend during the days she closed herself off. She broke down the walls that she made but never pushed her to do more than she wanted.

Throughout high school she was by Lydia's side as a pillar of support. She introduced Lydia to Isaac and Kira, who she also became good friends with.

Being a social pariah gave Lydia the chance to show off her genius. She stopped acting like a nitwit and  made sure everyone knew that she was smarter than all of them. She showed off her smarts as blatantly as she wore the scar on her face.

All the while she held an internal love/hate relationship with her soulmate. On one hand, she kind of hated the person because their actions continued to greatly affect Lydia's life. On the other, she breathed a sigh of relief when, a week later, she felt a sharp pain in her foot; at least there was a person out there to share this burden with.

The four of them ended up moving together to Berkeley, with all four girls having been accepted to UC Berkeley and Isaac attending a local community college in order to find his calling in life. In November he started working at a hole-in-the-wall coffee shop where he befriended a coworker named Scott McCall.

After New Year’s, Isaac brought Scott around their apartment more often. Lydia would shut herself in her room whenever he came over. She would text Isaac with things she would need and he would leave it by the door. It annoyed annoy him, but he understood.

She slipped up one day when she passed by the living room on the way, spotting the Hispanic boy around her age lounging on the couch. They both stared at each other for a long time, his eyes were wide in what seemed like recognition. It took him a couple of seconds before he smiled and introduced himself.

They sort of hit it off after that.

When Isaac returned half an hour later with pizza, he smiled at his two friends finally getting to know each other.

Scott officially-unofficially becomes part of her small social circle. This became further cemented when he and Allison found  out that  they were soulmates (a bite mark on the right side of their waist—gained when Scott was attacked by a wolf during an attempted father-son hunting trip in Alaska).They started dating a week after discovering this.

Allison became happy, and  Lydia truly was happy for her, but at the same time it reminded her how pathetically lonely she was.

* * *

 

Her world shifted again when Scott bursts into their apartment mid-April and excitedly told them during their designated weekly movie night that some of his friends from home were coming down to Berkeley to visit him during their spring break 

His eyes were on Lydia as he said his next words.

“I want them to meet all of you. Especially you, Lydia.”

“Why especially me?” Lydia asked, tilting her head curiously.

Scott stammered, backtracking, “I mean… you could use more friends, right?”

Lydia was speechless. Was she so pathetic that her friends felt the need to set her up with new friends?

Lydia catches Allison's glare towards her boyfriend when Lydia marches to her room and slams her door shut. She sits on her bed as the voices raise outside of her room. Their apartment isn't that big in the first place, so it's unsurprising that she can hear every word.

“Scott, you know I love you,” she heard Allison say, “But what the ever-loving hell was with that suggestion?”

“Look,” Scott's voice wavered, “I didn't mean to come off as insensitive-”

“Well you obviously failed,” Allison growls.

“Scott, just because Lydia is a little reclusive that doesn't mean that you need to do something like that,” Lydia heard Kira say in disappointment.

“Listen to me, I have a really good reason-”

“She's not a charity case, Scott!” Allison exploded. “She doesn't need to deal with people judging her,okay She doesn't need people pretending to be her friend because they pity her. She has us, her real friends.”

“Look, guys,” Isaac is the one speaking now. “I think you should hear him out.”

Allison managed a small gasp, “I thought you of all would be more upset about this, Isaac.”

“Normally I would be mad. But Scott told me all about it already. So I really think you should hear him out.”

“Oh, I would absolutely love that explanation.”

“Because one of my friends is her soulmate, okay?!” Scott yelled, his voice reverberating throughout the entire apartment. Lydia wouldn't have been able to avoid hearing it even if she wanted to.

She covered her mouth in shock. Scott knew her soulmate? Why didn't he tell her?

“Lydia,” he speaks louder, as if he were answering her internal question and because he likely had realized that the walls were made out of tissue.”I didn't tell you because it wasn't my place to say anything. I've been trying to get him to meet you and he's finally said yes. But only if you want to.”

She sat up on her bed, frozen. Was she ready? She traced the scar on her face, pondering the answers she so badly wanted.Why did she have a scar on her face like a brand? She hadn't done anything wrong!

The anger started to build up inside of her. She wanted to give this person—a male as Scott had implied—a piece of her mind. This asshole is the reason she became a social outcast. This asshole is the reason she doesn't go out on Friday nights like other college students. This asshole is the reason why she attracts stares in public places.

Her feet picked her up and storm her back into the living room without really thinking about it. Everyone is standing up now, she observed. Scott and Isaac were standing on one side of the room, Allison and Kira facing them on the opposite side. It reminded her of showdowns in westerns. All four of them are stared at her in confusion.

“I'll do it,” Lydia finds herself saying. “I'll meet your friend and I'm going to give him all of the anger and frustration that I've been saving up since getting this-” she pointed to the scar “-on my face.

Scott found himself smiling despite Lydia blatantly threatening his  friend with bodily harm, “That's all I ask.”

Allison is at her side immediately, “Lyds, are you sure? You don't have to do this if you don't want to.”

Lydia shook her head, “I want to, Ally. I deserve to know.”

Allison nodded her head and gently rubbed Lydia's upper arm in soothing circles, “You do, Lyds.” She turned to look at her boyfriend, “When are your friends coming?

Scott answered without taking his eyes off of Lydia, “They'll be here tomorrow, and I was thinking we could all have dinner at my place.”

Lydia stiffened, she's never been to Scott's apartment before. Meeting new people in a different environment rang alarms in her head. Allison seemed to sense this and looked at her with worried eyes.

“Will that be okay?” she asked.

Lydia nodded determinedly, “It'll have to be.”

* * *

 

The next night, she stood with her friends outside of Scott's apartment. 

She's overdressed. She feels overdressed. She's wearing her favorite floral skirt and flowy top. It's definitely a contrast to the simple shirt and pants ensemble that Kira and Allison are sporting.

She's definitely overdressed.

But these are clothes that the old Lydia Martin would wear. And the old Lydia Martin was a cold confident bitch. She needed to channel that tonight, with these clothes as her battle armor.

Isaac took her hand and grips it tightly in a show of support. Lydia smiles at him in thanks.

The door finally opened, revealing a smiling Scott McCall in a frilly pink apron. Allison covered her mouth to stifle her laughter and Kira didn't even try to stifle her own.

“Hey guys!” he greeted cheerfully, further opening the door for them, “Come in!”

Lydia hung back as everyone else entered,, Allison giving her a quick peck on the cheek as she crossed over the threshold. Scott just stood patiently at the door with her.

“He's at the table talking about the historical significance of male circumcision. That usually means he's nervous. Not the male circumcision part, the talking part,” Scott explained. “If you leave now or at any point tonight, all of us will understand.”

Lydia couldn’t help but smile at Scott's thoughtfulness.

“Thank you ,” she replied, straightening her back. She takes the first steps into the apartment.

She follows Scott to the small table next to the kitchen. It's packed with a couple more chairs than there should be. Lydia hypothesized that when they all sit down they'll have little to no elbow room.

Allison, Kira, and Isaac were already sitting at the table with a couple people she didn’t recognize. Allison and Kira are talking to a girl with short brown hair and a wide smile. She was resting her chin in her hand as she listened to Kira ramble about something. Allison sat between them, an amused smile gracing her face. Isaac was sitting next to the unknown girl, shifting awkwardly next to a man with crossed arms and a sour expression. His face was mostly blocked by a man gesturing wildly, the back of his head facing Lydia.

The man's gestures to the brooding man makes the corners of Lydia's lips twitch upward in amusement. But then his gestures caused his arm to hit the edge of the table.

She was taken off guard when a phantom pain shot through her arm, causing her to yelp.

The man froze and turned slowly, his warm brown eyes wide in astonishment. But that wasn’t the thing that caught her eye first.

There’s a scar on his face that she recognized from her own reflection. His eyes flickered to her own scar, giving away that he was likely thinking the same thing.

Ice filled her veins as she saw how handsome he looked despite the scar. It made her feel even more ugly.

She takes a step back when the man stands up abruptly.

“I-I'm sorry,” Lydia apologized to Scott, unable to take her eyes off of the man with the matching scar. “I thought I could do this, but I can't.”

Her eyes met Allison's, who only nodded solemnly.

Pressed her lips together in a thin line, taking a couple more steps back. She tore her eyes away from the man as she turns around and walks back out of the apartment. She heard an unfamiliar voice telling her to wait as she sped down the hallway.

* * *

 

Thankfully the next day is a Saturday, so it gives Lydia a chance to work ahead on her homework and sulk in her room. 

When she gets answers to three math problems wrong she decides to stick exclusively to sulking. More specifically, wrapping herself in a blanket and sighing because last night was a total disaster.

Why did she run away?

She turned over to her other side and sighed. Old Lydia Martin wouldn't have run away. Old Lydia Martin would told him off and punched him in the face.

But old Lydia Martin was dead. She died the moment the doctor pulled the stitches out of her face, leaving behind the disfiguring scar.

New Lydia Martin was an introvert, a coward, a loner with a short list of friends. It wasn't even her fault, but she was suffering for it.

She heard the door to her bedroom creak open and she wrapped herself in her blanket more tightly.

“Allison,” she groaned. “I told you I didn't wanna talk.”

“Umm,” a deep unfamiliar voice replied. “Sorry to disappoint, but I'm not Allison.”

Lydia's eyes widen and she scrambled to sit up on her bed. She stared at the man awkwardly standing in her room, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“What are you doing here?” Lydia questioned. She absentmindedly combed her fingers through her long strawberry blonde hair, trying to make herself look a little more presentable in her brooding state.

“I'm here because I want to talk to you,” he answered.

Lydia crossed her arms, “Well, I don't want to talk to you.”

“That's fine. Scott told me that I should probably give the reason why this-” he gestured to his face, “-is a thing for us.”

She looked away from him, letting her silence engulf the room. It's deathly quiet for a while before he sighs.

“You know that scar on our right knee?” he asked randomly, the sound of his voice jolting Lydia into looking in his direction. He sat down on the edge of her bed and rolled up his pant leg, showing her the faded scar on his knee. “I got this when I met Scott. A couple of bullies on the playground tripped me and I landed weird. But Scott stood up to them and helped me out. We've been best friends since.”

He smiled fondly at the memory. For some reason, his smile makes her heart skip a beat.

“Our left hand,” Lydia stated slowly. “Near our thumb.”

The man nodded “I was wondering how we got that.”

She brought up her left hand and he brings up his in kind. “It happened when I was in middle school. It was PE. We were playing volleyball and I didn't pay attention to my hand positioning. The ball broke skin.”

The man chuckled at that one, his whiskey eyes sparkling. “I was wondering. You don't do much that causes me pain. Unless it's my feet.”

“Well,” Lydia smirks, “I'm not the clumsiest person in the world.”

“You've certainly got me there” he paused. “The scar on our left elbow is there because a baseball hit the window, hit me, then I fell on the broken glass.”

Lydia guffawed. “You also have the worst luck ever!”

It was his turn to smirk, “Derek tells me that a lot.”

“This Derek guy sounds smart.”

He groaned. “Don't ever mention that when he's in the room.”

A beat of silence passes between them before Lydia spoke up again. “I really want to know why this happened to me. To us.”

The man pressed his lips in a thin line before nodding slowly, “Okay. Okay, I'll tell you.”

He takes a deep breath.

“So my dad is the sheriff of my hometown,” he starts. “Before that though, he had a partner, Donovan. One day, they were patrolling and an incident happened causing Donovan to lose his legs. My dad stayed behind to call for backup while his partner rushed in. He wasn't the same when he lost his legs.”

Lydia nodded.

“His son blamed my dad for it. He said that my dad was a coward and didn't deserve his spot as Sheriff. One day, he kidnapped and tortured me to get to my father. I was missing for two days. He took a scalpel and...” he trails off.

Lydia shifted over to him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “That must have been terrifying.”

“It was. But my dad found me and the bastard who did this to me is rotting in jail.”She looked into his eyes, noticing the tears that were beginning to form there.. “But the scar stayed. My life changed after that. Everyone saw me as a freak with a scar on his face but it hurt so much that there was someone out there who looked just like me.”

“I'm sorry,” he choked. “I'm so fucking sorry I dragged you down with me.”

She pulled him into a fierce hug. He buried his face into her shoulder and started to sob. “It's okay,” she whispers. “I know it wasn't your fault.”

“Allison told me what your life was like when you got the scar. I just didn't want you to hate me. But I understand if you do,” he weeps into her shoulder.

Lydia shook her head, “I was angry at you for a while. But I never hated you.”

She felt him nod, “Okay.”

“We'll get through this together. After all, there's no one else that understands better than we do, right? I guess that's one benefit to all of this.”

He pulled away slightly to smile at her, tear tracks on his face. It makes her heart skip a beat again. “Exactly,” he breathed. The smile stretched until it became a grin on his face.

She laughed,causing him to scrunch his eyebrows together in confusion.

“What's so funny?”

“I just realized that we never properly introduced ourselves. I'm Lydia.”

He laughed, pulling her in for another hug, “I'm Stiles.”

They stayed together like that for a while, slowly but surely stitching themselves together.


End file.
